


The Lives of Robots

by tartanfics



Series: Identification [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, John Has Issues, John is bad at dating, M/M, Pre-Slash, Robot Feels, Robot Kink, Robot Sherlock, Robots, Three Laws of Robotics, having a robot for a flatmate sometimes gets awkward, not actually an Asimov crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-19
Updated: 2014-07-19
Packaged: 2018-02-09 13:33:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1984833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tartanfics/pseuds/tartanfics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>London, 2081. Thirteen days, eighteen hours, and twenty-three minutes ago, John Watson grabbed James Moriarty around the neck and told Sherlock to run. It doesn't make sense. Humans created the Three Laws of Robotics, required robots to protect humans above all else. There is no precedent for the reverse.</p><p>Sherlock needs more data.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lives of Robots

**Author's Note:**

> This is #2 in the series-of-fics that forms the sequel to [This Machine Called Man](http://archiveofourown.org/works/524552/chapters/928252). You may want to read the fic previous to this first, but you can probably skip This Machine Called Man. New fics in the series should go up weekly on Friday or Saturday; to get notifications of the updates you should [subscribe to the series](http://archiveofourown.org/series/26877), and not to the individual fics.

**13 April, 2081**

Mrs. Hudson catches Sherlock on his way out to follow John.

Sherlock needs more data. Thirteen days, eighteen hours, and twenty-three minutes ago, John grabbed James Moriarty around the neck and told Sherlock to run. Distilled into its component implications, that action means that John Watson was willing to die so that Sherlock could continue to exist. 

It doesn’t make sense. It is contrary to everything Sherlock knows about the order of the world. Humans created the Three Laws of Robotics, required robots to protect humans above all else. There is no precedent for the reverse. Humans may not be inescapably restricted by the Three Laws, but nevertheless they do not put the lives of robots before their own. The possibility simply does not compute.

But it happened.

Sherlock has to know why, and the only way to do that is research. He needs information on John’s reaction to all possible situations. Every variable must be accounted for. Sherlock must observe John both when he is and is not aware of Sherlock’s presence. Sherlock knows John would disapprove of such covert observation--might even be angry about it; he’s difficult to predict. But _knowing_ has become a priority Sherlock can’t afford to ignore.

Mrs. Hudson has her hand on his arm and he’s backed against the stair railing, trapped by a little old human lady. Sherlock’s not going to be able to find John in the crush of people and data out in the world if she keeps him much longer. “You know, dear, that’s not really socially acceptable. You’ve got to give the boy a bit of privacy.” 

“What isn’t socially acceptable, Mrs. Hudson?”

“Following John about. Does he know you do that?”

“Of course not. I’m very good at it.”

“I’m not sure that’s something to be proud of, dear.” She pats his arm and pulls back to look up at him. “I understand, you know. You’re very attached to him and you want to make sure he’s safe, out in the world, flying around in buses and talking with all sorts. In my day, buses stayed nicely on the ground.”

What, mired in all the traffic down there? How ridiculous. “Yes, Mrs. Hudson.” John’s safety is not Sherlock’s primary concern--he has had ample opportunity to assess John’s ability to look after himself, and just as much proof in John’s ability (and, more strangely, willingness) to look after Sherlock. Not that Sherlock ignores John’s safety, but he knows better than to expend resources worrying about it.

Sherlock nods at Mrs. Hudson and tries a smile on, one of John’s. She smiles back: indulgent smile, familiar. “I’ll let you go, then,” she says. “But you might want to try telling John you’ve been following him around.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Hudson.” He can’t do that yet, of course. Not enough data on John when he’s unaware he’s being followed, have to wait a while before Sherlock tries it the other way.

Sherlock shuts the front door behind him, dismissing Mrs Hudson’s concerns. There are too many people on Baker Street (rush hour, people leaving work), John not in sight. Sherlock hurries in the most probable direction, accessing as he goes the local CC-TV cameras. John last spotted at the Marylebone intersection. Good, confirming Sherlock’s guess.

Sherlock is able to move much faster than most humans, without making it look like he’s running. He soon catches up to John, spotting the blond head and upturned collar in the distance and then slowing down, following from far enough back that there’s no chance of being spotted. Sherlock’s enhanced eyesight is very convenient for this particular exercise.

The route John takes is unfamiliar; not one he’s walked before while Sherlock’s been following. 

The crowd thins out a bit and Sherlock has to fall further back, crossing the street to put the mass of traffic between himself and John. Finally John pauses outside a flower shop. He looks at his reflection in the window and straightens his tie. John wouldn’t wear a tie for the pub or visiting Harry; he usually only wears ties for more formal occasions, but Sherlock has no data to suggest what sort of occasion this might be. 

John finishes inspecting his appearance, nods to his reflection in the window, and walks past the flower shop and in the front door of the restaurant next door. 

John doesn't go out to dinner by himself; he's too careful about money. Moreover, he wouldn't wear a tie for a dinner by himself. Therefore he must be meeting someone. A date. John doesn’t always wear ties for a date--perhaps he’s trying to impress this one. Someone new, not any of the women John has previously dated. Sherlock doesn't have data on any current acquaintances of John apart from Harry and the people who comment on John's blog, and John has never shown any indication of being close enough to any of the blog commenters to meet them for dinner. Could be an old acquaintance he's catching up with, perhaps from the military, but none of the commenters is from the military except one, a fellow roboticist who Sherlock knows for a fact is still deployed. Therefore, a date.

Sherlock moves closer to the restaurant, crossing the street again through the traffic going 4 kilometres per hour. He goes as far as the flower shop and peers carefully around the frame of the restaurant window. John is seated at a table for two. He's alone, but all that means is that his company has yet to arrive. Good, Sherlock will be able to get a good look at them, may even be able to deduce more accurately why they are here. Sherlock watches John straighten his tie again--self-conscious, perhaps anxious.

Sherlock backs away from the window, leaning against the wall between it and the flower shop and scrutinising the people walking by. 

Sherlock's data on dating rituals is incomplete. He's been meaning to correct the oversight, as romantic relationships are central to 43% of crimes, but most of the relationships that become relevant to crimes are in a more advanced stage than dating. Additionally, the rules of dating appear to be one of the more arbitrary and ridiculous human social rituals. It would be much more interesting if John were not here on a date. 

A woman in a short black dress pauses on the pavement, just out of sight of the windows of the restaurant. She's looking at the restaurant, obviously intending to go in and pausing before doing so. The probability that this is who John is meeting is high. 

The woman is approximately 35 years of age, of Eastern European descent. Blonde, a distinguishing oval-shaped mole on the side of her jaw. Her dress has subtle elements of robo-chic style--the cut is meant to evoke the most common design of droids. She’s wearing knee-length black boots, surprisingly practical, and carrying a small purse. In the time it takes her to pause on the far side of the restaurant and make up her mind to go in (or whatever she's doing, Sherlock can't read minds no matter how often John suggests he can), Sherlock has collected enough information about her to identify her on sight from a number of angles.

He has also determined that he has never seen the woman before, that she works in business in some mid-level position which John will find boring, and that she owns a cat. She must be John's date; no other reason for him to be having dinner with an unknown woman that has any probability worth accounting for. Sherlock has known John to go on dates before; sometimes he complains about them afterwards. Sherlock's files on John contain a list of women (Sarah, Jeannette, Kira) with whom John has gone on dates, and about whom Sherlock never heard again.

She enters the restaurant. Sherlock looks around the edge of the building again to see John standing to greet her--an awkward handshake and kiss on the cheek combination which makes Sherlock consider doing a study of first date body language. Surely that can’t be the usual greeting. 

Sherlock continues watching as the date progresses. Data-gathering. It’s impossible to be certain whether observing John’s dating habits will have any bearing on the inquiry into John’s willingness to die for Sherlock, but Sherlock can’t rule out the possibility. Unfortunate that he can’t hear what they’re saying, but he can’t get any closer without John spotting him. He can see John’s face in full and the woman’s face in profile. John’s facial expression is familiar to Sherlock--he checks his files--it’s the polite one John makes with witnesses at crime scenes, when he’s smoothing over Sherlock’s less polite methods of getting information. Sherlock wouldn’t have predicted seeing the expression in this context. 

Eventually Sherlock gets bored. There's no new information he can get from here unless something dramatic happens to disrupt the date.

Considering possible interruptions, Sherlock has an idea. He pulls out his com and composes a text.

**John, I need you to come home. SH.**

Sherlock looks back in the window just as John takes his com out of his pocket. John is obviously apologising to his date. He frowns at the screen of his com and then types out a message in reply. 

**I'm busy. Are you exploding?**

**The kitchen might be. SH.**

Sherlock watches again as John apologises (more profusely this time) and writes another text. 

**You can deal with that. I'm only coming home if it's you that's exploding.**

Sherlock considers this response. It’s more evidence that Sherlock’s well-being is a high priority for John, but it’s hardly beyond the bounds of ordinary commitment to his job. John is obviously not seriously worried. He's learned to be sceptical of Sherlock's reasons for making claims on his time. 

Sherlock waits a quarter of an hour before determining that the date is already nearly over anyway (with no more success than the last three, from the look of things), he walks up to the door of the restaurant and goes inside. 

John sees him immediately. His head snaps up and he stops speaking mid-sentence, mouth still open. "Sherlock!" he says. He sounds merely surprised, but after the exclamation his facial expression changes, obviously getting over the surprise and becoming annoyed. Sherlock knew he was risking John's irritation, but he was hoping for a more positive response to rescuing John from a boring date. Perhaps John doesn't want to express his thanks in the presence of the date; he's often polite in that way. 

"What are you doing here?" John asks, looking between Sherlock and the woman sitting across from him. Sherlock makes his way between the other tables--mostly empty, this restaurant can't be very popular, which also doesn't bode very well for the success of the date--and stops next to John. 

"Hello," Sherlock says, addressing the greeting to the table generally. Maybe he'll get to see how John's date feels about her evening. 

"Hi," she says tentatively. "John? Who's this?"

John heaves a very loud and very obviously pointed sigh. "He's my flatmate, Sherlock. Sorry Elena, he's a bit of a possessive idiot who'd rather I stay home to hand him things." 

"Your flatmate," Elena repeats. 

"Yeah. Sherlock, you're obviously not actually exploding, so unless you need something else that can't wait until later please get out." John appears anxious, shifting in his seat and avoiding Sherlock’s eyes. Sherlock does not personally care one way or the other about eye contact, as he doesn’t need it to maintain a feeling of social connection, but it is a good way to assess the emotional state of others.

Sherlock continues to stand next to the table, examining at a closer range John, Elena, and the state of their relations. Ah, so that's why John is not enjoying himself. 

"You only agreed to go out with him after he told you he's a roboticist," Sherlock says to Elena. He waits for her reaction to the statement, but she only raises her eyebrows. No shame about the interest, then. It's obvious from the robo-chic style of her dress alone, as people of her age don't usually adopt the style unless they have a particular interest in robots. "And you think John may be amenable to your interest."

"Sherlock," John says. His voice is hoarse. He half stands, pushing back his chair. "I didn't--. Just shut up and get out." John looks around the restaurant, obviously worrying about making a scene and the opinions of the few other patrons present. "And keep your voice down," John hisses. Sherlock knows his voice carries; he was making no effort to moderate it, but John is obviously less comfortable with the idea of a sexual interest in robotics than Elena is and perhaps Sherlock's purposes would be served by making allowances for this. 

"I was hoping for that, yeah," Elena says, looking consideringly at John. Ah, John obviously hasn't told her he's not interested.

"No," John says. His voice has a tone in it which Sherlock's audio processors assess as desperation, very mild panic. "I don't--Sherlock, why are you--. I'm not--not into that." He seems very urgent that Sherlock understand his meaning, whatever he may be trying to convey with his incoherent sentences. " _Really_ not, Jesus. No."

John is breathing heavily. He sits back down without pulling his chair in to the table, and suddenly seems to notice Elena again. His eyes widen. "God, sorry, Elena. I didn't mean. It's fine that you, uh." John blushes, his ears and neck turning red. "Sorry, I'm just not interested."

Elena laughs. "Don't worry about it. Not everyone is. I'm sorry it makes you uncomfortable."

"I--. Look, yeah, I'm going to take Sherlock home and yell at him for a bit. I had a lovely evening." He takes out his com and scans it over the payment screen on the wall next to the table, authorising payment with a tap of the green button floating on his com screen. £49.78, John can't really afford that.

Sherlock is disappointed John is planning to yell at him, though rather pleased he managed a swift end to the date. 

By the time they get outside, leaving Elena at the table to pack up her purse, John has worked himself up into a mild and rather ridiculous rage. John stops Sherlock before he can hail a cab, spinning him around by the elbow in front of the neighbouring flower shop. 

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" John hisses. "Interrupting my date and accusing me of--of."

Sherlock frowns, conveying his lack of understanding of John's meaning. "I wasn't accusing you of anything," he says, quite truthfully.

"Yes you were," John says, volume rising. "You accused me of having a robotics kink. I didn't know she was--. I mean, she was more interested in my job than most people are, it usually puts people off. But I thought she was just open-minded, I didn't know she liked me _because_ I'm a roboticist."

“I did not. I pointed out that she has a robotics kink, saving her the time of continuing to hope you’d reciprocate the interest and you the trouble of having to tell her you weren’t interested at a more advanced stage in the proceedings.”

John takes several deep breaths, blinking uncomprehendingly at Sherlock. Why has he so thoroughly misunderstood everything Sherlock has said?

“I’m going home,” John says finally, turning and walking away from Sherlock.

“John!” Sherlock calls. But John makes an abortive, dismissive motion with his hand, and Sherlock doesn’t try to follow.

Sherlock gets home first. John doesn’t come home for another 3 hours and 27 minutes. When he does, he behaves as if his reaction to Sherlock’s interruption of the date wasn’t completely irrational. In fact, he behaves as if it hadn’t happened at all.


End file.
